


sirens in my head

by thereisnoreality



Series: murdery martrimony [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Creepy Fluff, Dubious Morality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 03:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20557559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/thereisnoreality
Summary: Kun takes a shaky breath. He's not going to let it happen again. Ten is far too addicting of a drug and Kun has been five years sober now. He won't let himself break again. "One meal," he says, slightly pleased with himself when his voice comes out steady. "One meal. You tell me what you want. And then I never see you again."Ten's smile lights up the room, dark and venomous, like those neon nightclub signs that declare a night of vice and sin, that taunt you to enter their world. Like Orpheus walking into the Underworld to rescue something that was long lost. "One meal," he says and the fire lights up under Kun's skin again, itching and aching. Waiting for the next hit to come.





	sirens in my head

**Author's Note:**

> this is a weird one lads and dads,,, i watched the joker trailer and i got hooked
> 
> not related to the truth hurts but its in the same vein
> 
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76iNJ2POo4f1c124RJZxZG?si=85EkyarqQdGp2JhpqOIz7w)

The second Kun flicks on the light in his apartment, he knows something is wrong. The rest of the apartment is dark, the single light bulb unable to push away the insidious darkness that insists on swallowing the space around him, pressing closer and closer.

He takes a cautious step inside, eyes flickering around to try and find any signs of danger, any intruders. The floorboard creaks under him, and he freezes, heartbeat ratcheting upward.

After several seconds of silence, with nothing seemingly wrong, Kun carefully shuts the door behind himself, setting his bag down on the floor. The shoes go on the rack by the front door and his coat goes up on the hooks. The unsettling feeling doesn't leave, not even after he turns on the rest of the lights in the kitchen and living room.

The hallway leading to his room is still dark and Kun stares down it in trepidation before shaking himself off. _Stop being silly_, he scolds himself and then stalks down the hall, intent on lighting up his entire house if only to subside the dark cloud that was currently swallowing up his stomach, despite his electricity bills.

He throws open the door to his room, slapping the lights on, heart in his throat and breath catching in his lungs, staring wildly around for any sign of an intruder.

Nothing.

Kun sighs, leaning against the doorjamb, his limbs sagging with relief. He then pushes himself off, intent on just washing his face and then going back to cook dinner, maybe starting up a stir fry or-

The door slams shut and Kun gets shoved up against it, the breath flying out of his lungs with a whoosh. Kun lets out a surprised cry and lifts his hands to push the attacker away, but before he can, his hands get caught and slammed up above his head, pinned there by his attacker.

"Do stop fighting, darling," his attacker sings, pulling off his mask with his free hand and letting it drop on the floor before flipping the knife around in his hand and trailing it up Kun's jaw. "I'd hate to make that pretty mouth wider."

"Ten?" Kun gasps. The adrenaline is coursing through his veins, making him shudder and shake. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ten pouts at him, his eyes glimmering. "I missed you, darling," he whispers, the knife's point pressing into the curve of Kun's neck, making him flinch. "You left me all alone."

How long had it been since he’d last seen Ten? Since he’d last felt those eyes upon him? Since he’d last felt his body pressed up against him? Kun struggles to breathe, to take stock of what was happening. Ten had broken into his apartment and had him pinned against his door and _all_ that Kun could think about was the waterfall of feelings that had burst forth at the sight of his ex. 

"I graduated," Kun spits, trying to pull away. Ten makes a hissed noise of disapproval and slams him back against the door, hand tightening around Kun's wrist. "It's not my fault you decided not to do so as well."

Ten's pout only grows. "School was boring. After you left there was no reason to stay."

Kun stares at him, mouth open. He doesn't know why he's not screaming for help, or calling the police. He doesn't know why he's not afraid. Not much anyway. Kun, more than most, knew what exactly what Ten was capable of. "If you missed me so much, can you put the knife away? Kind of sends a wrong signal."

Ten's gaze flickers to the knife, as if surprised it was still in his hands, before shrugging and pulling it away from Kun's neck, stepping back entirely. "Of course, darling. It was only a precaution."

Kun pushes himself off the door, wincing as the blood rushes back into his arms. He rubs his wrists, trying to force some feeling back into them. Ten's eyes dart to his hands. "Are you hurt?" He asks, glancing up at Kun's face, worry filling his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you, darling."

"Then maybe don't pin me against a door and threaten me with a knife," Kun snaps. Ten's face falls, and immediately Kun feels bad before reconsidering. Why does he feel bad? Ten was the one who had essentially attacked him in his own apartment after breaking in. Ten, who he hadn't seen in half a decade. Ten, who still, even after all this time, looks absurdly handsome in the low light of Kun's bedroom, the shadows glancing off his cheekbones, making his eyes swim darker.

"What are you doing here, Ten?"

"I told you," Ten mutters, bottom lip pushing out. "I missed you. It's been years."

"Five."

Ten's eyes flicker. "Has it really? Time flies when you're having fun, I guess."

"And what fun would that be?" Kun asks warily. He knows firsthand what Ten used to get up to in their university days, and he can only guess at what that had blossomed into in an adult Ten.

Ten's grin is a knife flashing in the dark, silver and quick. Eerie. "Secrets, secrets, darling, are _so _much fun," he whispers, dipping closer to ghost his lips up across Kun's ear, air trickling down over his neck. Kun closes his eyes for half a second as goosebumps break out over him, making him shudder, before he opens them again, a flash of clarity striking through him. He can't be pulled in again. Not like this. Not by Ten.

Kun steps away, and he hates the way half his mind immediately regrets the motion, as if wanting to be pressed back against Ten's body. Wanting to go back to the caresses it had sorely missed. "If you have nothing worthwhile to tell me, feel free to get out. And send me money for fixing that lock you broke."

Ten follows his gaze over his shoulder to the broken lock on Kun's window. Kun doesn't even want to know how he managed to get up here, given that Kun lived on sixth floor with no fire escape by this window. But Ten was, as always, a mystery.

"I'm hungry," Ten announces, turning back to Kun. "Feed me, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"I don't _want_ to know anything," Kun snaps back. "I just want you to get out of my life. Again." A lie. A very badly crafted, even more poorly delivered, lie. And Ten catches it.

"Oh, Kunnie," he sighs, shoulders slumping, eyes downcast. "I'm so sorry for what happened, I promise. It won't ever happen again, not ever. I told you that. I gave you my _word_." The unsaid words flash in between them. _And yet you left anyway_.

Kun takes a shaky breath. He's not going to let it happen again. Ten is far too addicting of a drug and Kun has been five years sober now. He won't let himself break again. "One meal," he says, slightly pleased with himself when his voice comes out steady. "One meal. You tell me what you want. And then I never see you again."

Ten's smile lights up the room, dark and venomous, like those neon nightclub signs that declare a night of vice and sin, that taunt you to enter their world. Like Orpheus walking into the Underworld to rescue something that was long lost. "One meal," he says and the fire lights up under Kun's skin again, itching and aching. Waiting for the next hit to come.

* * *

Ten and Kun met in their first year of university. Kun had been a wide-eyed, naive freshman, excited to explore all that had been given to him on a silver platter. And Ten was the fox that had led him past the flowers and the forests into the dark underbrush.

Truthfully though, Kun owes Ten much for those days. He had been - and still is - an introvert down to his bones, and Ten had been his sole companion, dragging him out to random club meetings and to awful frat parties where the music was far too loud and the company far too drunk to be enjoyable.

Kun had fallen in love with that Ten. The bright-eyed, tiny dancer with horribly bleached hair and far too many piercings and tattoos dotting his body. He had let himself become swept along in Ten's current, letting the vibrant song of Ten's spirit whisk him away to lands far away and unknown. Kun had loved Ten with all his heart, had adored who he was, had wanted to drown in him for as long he could.

Now, Kun wonders when all that had changed. (That's a lie. He knows exactly when.)

"Here." Kun sets down a plate of steaming veggie stir fry in front of Ten before handing him a cup of water along with it. "Eat."

"This looks so good," Ten says awed, eyes bright as he takes in the multicoloured vegetables, waiting until Kun sits down with his own plate before pouncing. "I haven't had home cooked food in months," Ten groans through a mouthful of food. "This is _delicious._"

And despite himself, despite all the warning bells and sirens going off in his head, Kun's heart pangs when he takes in Ten's thin frame and his hollowed cheekbones, the too harsh way his jaw cuts into his skin. "Eat more," he says quietly, ladling more food onto Ten's plate. "And slowly. Otherwise you'll choke."

"Just what you like, isn't it, darling?" Ten grins at him before taking another large bite, messily smearing sauce across his chin. Before Kun can stop himself, he reaches over and thumbs it away.

Ten freezes, staring at him with wide eyes and Kun stares back, his thumb still caught on Ten's lower lip. He coughs and pulls away, ducking down to his own food. "Eat," he orders through a hoarse throat. "It'll get cold."

He can feel Ten's eyes on him, insistent and wide, but Kun refuses to look up until he hears the clink of silverware against the plate again. His thumb burns against his leg the whole time.

Ten starts talking once dinner's over. They relocate to the couch, and despite Kun's best insistence on otherwise, Ten gets a hold of his cheap wine and two glasses. Kun notices he guesses the right cabinet on the first try.

"So," Ten starts slowly, staring at Kun's thigh, lost in thought while he swirls the wine around the glass. "Five years ago. You left."

"I graduated," Kun corrects again.

"You left me," Ten says again, pinning him to where he sits with his black eyes.

"We broke up," Kun refutes. This is one place where he won't budge.

"No, _you_ broke up with me, and then without even giving me the chance to explain or to make it right, you packed up and left. You left me." Ten sips slowly at his wine, his eyes never leaving Kun's. “All alone. When you knew I needed you.”

Kun snorts. “Please, Ten. Don’t lie, you never needed me. You were fine on your own.”

Ten’s mouth sets in a stubborn line. “I always needed you. And it hurt like hell when you left.”

Kun stares at him before pursing his lips and deciding to move on. It doesn’t matter about the past, he wants to know what Ten wants_ now_. "Then what happened? What led you to breakinto my _apartment_ five yearslater? Five years without no contact, Ten. I assumed you'd just forgotten about me."

"Oh darling," Ten whispers, licking a drop of wine away from his lip. His eyes are so black and deep. Kun's convinced he's drowning in them. "You severely underestimate yourself if you think I could _ever_ forget you."

They stare at each other in silence and Kun can hear his heartbeat in his ears, too loud, too fast. Kun breaks first. He always does, when it comes to Ten.

"What happened?"

Ten shrugs. "I left town, wandered around. Found a job in the city and just..." He shifts restlessly. "Grew bored." He glances at Kun out of the corner of his eye. "Humans are quite boring creatures, don't you think, darling? They just live day after day, doing the same thing, meeting the same people. It's a wonder more of us don't snap like we should."

Kun considers his words. It's always a game, having a conversation with Ten. You had to parse out what were the distractions and what was the truth - what was really important. "You didn't try to find me," he points out. He would have known too, if Ten had tried. Ten really didn't know the meaning of subtlety back then. Kun's not sure if he does _now_, either.

"You didn't want to be found," Ten says, and there's a tilt of sadness in his voice.

"That never stopped you before."

Ten's smile starts up a kickdrum in Kun's heart. Strong and pounding. "You're right. You always did know me best, darling."

Kun stares at him for a beat longer. "So why now?"

Ten considers him over the rim of his glass. "You know the way drugs make you feel, Kunnie? The way they ache and itch and burn under your skin, making you want more and more? The way that when you're the happiest you've ever been, when you're the highest you've ever been, they finally kill you?"

Kun takes stock of the words pooling under his tongue, screaming, pounding, to be let out. He wonders if he's ready to hurt Ten like that. But it has been five years after all. "Of course I do," he settles for saying. "You were that drug for me, Ten. But I was better off with you gone. We weren't good for each other."

Hurt fractures across Ten's expression, half a second, lightning flashing across a barren desert sky, before it settles again. "That's what I was going to say," he says, trying for a smile as he looks down at the wine glass. "Not the last part - but that you were _my_ drug." He looks back up at Kun, eyes wide. "You were all I've ever needed, you know? I tried to live without you, I really did, Kun. I did my _best. _I tried so hard, but in the end, life just felt meaningless without you in it."

And there's the danger that Kun had been so desperately trying to avoid. That tilt in Ten's head, that plaintive tone of voice, that earnest expression that cuts so deep into Kun's heart, finding the one place he thought he'd buried a long, long time ago.

"Ten," he tries, but his voice fails halfway through and he has to clear it, has to take a breath. Has to consider what he needs to say to make this turn out the way he wants. "Ten, you- you _know_ what you did. I couldn't- I can't live with that. Knowing that I'm the cause of that, I just _can't_."

Ten scrambles up straight, setting the wine glass down on the table and taking Kun's hand in both of his own. His fingers are cold and thin, and Kun so badly wants to cover them with his, wants to let all his warmth seep into Ten until he doesn't look like death warmed over anymore. "It won't ever happen again," Ten says fervently. There's desperation in his eyes, wild and wanting. "Kun, I _promise_, I _swear_, on my life, on my mother's, on anyone you need me to. It won't ever happen again. I won't ever lay a hand on another human being." He bites his lip, staring at Kun desperately. "_Please_, darling, I'd do _anything_ for you. I'd move the world if you wanted me to. Please don't leave me again, I don't think I could bear it."

Ten is Kun's most potent drug.

And like every addict does, at least once in their life, Kun slips. Kun slides. Kun drowns in Ten all over again.

* * *

Kun's job is boring. Well, not really. It's mostly boring, but it's light enough, it gets him home at five pm most days, and it's a steady income. It's not the worst job in the world, but Kun knows that someone like Ten would have hated being in the position he was. But Kun is not Ten. Kun is himself. And so when Monday morning dawns bright and early, Kun wakes up at the first alarm, swings himself out of bed on the third alarm, and is out the door by eight am, shutting the door quietly behind him. He leaves behind a still sleeping Ten, sprawled out on the couch, the bags under his eyes prominent and deep even in the sun dripping over the back of the couch, intent on waking him soon.

Kun's job is on the twenty third floor of a medium high rise in the middle of the city. It takes exactly thirty three minutes by subway to get to the right station and another five minutes to be at the office, just early enough to get a cup of coffee before he has to be at his desk.

Kun's routine is set and steady; he likes to stick to it, likes that there's a solid schedule to take comfort in. However, the mere presence of Ten in his life means that Kun's schedule is very much shot to hell, and so it comes as no surprise to him while on the elevator up to the twenty third floor, filled with half-asleep people, dread and existentialism clear in their tired eyes, he receives a call.

It's very much a disruption of his schedule, but Kun only sighs a little before sliding his phone out of his pocket and swiping the screen to answer.

"Hello, Ten."

"You left me." The pout is clear in Ten's tone, and Kun cannot help the small twitch of a smile that pops onto his lips, highly inappropriate as it is for a Monday morning.

"_I did not leave you_," Kun murmurs, switching to Chinese as he is wont to do around nosy coworkers, some of whom are looking at him with raised eyebrows. It goes against the elevator etiquette in their company to break the silent morning ride up before they have to disembark into the arms of capitalism. Kun ducks his head, lowering his mouth closer to his phone. "_I simply went to work_."

"I feel abandoned," Ten huffs, a whine in his voice. "When will you be back?"

_"At five. Don't you have a job to get to?"_

"I took a week off," Ten mumbles, stubbornly carrying on in English. Kun's a little surprised Ten still remembers his Chinese, though perhaps he shouldn't have been. Ten was always far more intelligent than the adults in his life gave him credit for. "I thought it would take a lot longer to convince you."

_"I'm not yet convinced,"_ Kun says tightly. _"Ten-"_

"I don't want to talk about that now," Ten interrupts. "You said five?" At Kun's hummed assent, he groans. "Fine, see you then, darling. I'll miss you."

Kun sighs. He considers the words standing at the back of his mind. Maybe Ten had changed. People could do so, Kun had always believed. And it would be remiss of him, hypocritical even, to not extend that same belief to Ten. Besides, what Ten had said the previous night had an ounce of truth in it. That life without him had been boring. That Kun, despite himself, had really felt alone and meaningless, like he was drifting through a sea of gray, passing day by day with no real impact or memory made, without Ten by his side. 

People could change. And Ten, despite his best efforts to prove otherwise, was human too. 

"_I'll miss you too," _Kun allows, a smile springing up when Ten laughs softly, the sound ballooning up his lungs, filling them with a dizzying feeling, like laughing gas being poured into his heart. "_Please don't burn down my apartment."_

Ten's laugh trills loudly, loud enough that some of the people in the elevator shift to glance at him. "No promises, darling."

* * *

Ten is not a subtle person. He's not now and he certainly wasn't back in university. And Kun is not a stupid person. He considers himself marginally intelligent, and when you put that and Ten's proclivity to broadcast every emotion he's ever felt together, well... it means Kun more or less learned to read Ten very early on.

It's the only reason he figured out that Ten wasn't exactly like other people. Not in that sappy romantic way people view their significant others, like the way they hold their spoons or write their g's are special. No, Kun realised quite early in their friendship, and even more so in their relationship, that Ten was an oddity when compared to the rest of the human race.

He didn't know what it was exactly; maybe the way Ten smiled at the overtly friendly exchange students Kun had been charged with showing around campus; maybe the way he wrapped a hand, proprietary and possessive, around Kun's waist at parties (which were frankly still terrible). Or maybe, it was the way Ten looked at him when they fucked, unabashedly staring, his big black eyes full of shameless want, as if Kun was the only thing in the world he needed right then and there. For Kun, who had never felt he merited such desire from another human being before, it was certainly a very intoxicating feeling.

And maybe that was why he ignored it. Maybe that was why he turned a blind eye to Ten's habits, to his weird quirks, to the signs any normal person would have found strange. Simply because, for the first time, someone wanted Kun, in a way he had never experienced before.

There was one specific memory that always comes to mind when Kun thought about their relationship.

It had been at a seedy frat party, at the very end of Greek row, and from the beginning of the night, Kun could tell he was not going to have a good time. He doesn't know why Ten dragged him out on those nights, but at that point, the semester hadn't started yet and Kun had agreed only so that he could claim enough experience when Ten asked him later again in the year.

Throughout most of the night, Kun had sequestered himself in a corner, chatting to acquaintances while watching Ten on the dance floor, a smile playing about his lips as he watched Ten let himself loose. However, things had taken a turn for the worse when Kun had come under the scrutiny of a large frat boy, who could have been considered handsome in a sort of brick-like way, if the light hit him in the right way. 

Now, Kun can’t remember what had been said, or what the man had even looked like - only that he’d leaned too far into Kun’s space and had whispered something in Kun’s face, the hard smell of beer hitting him squarely in the face. The rest of what happened was a blur in Kun’s memory, but he remembers Ten slamming the man up against the wall, tiny and ferocious and bristling with unbridled anger. Remembers the knife that Ten had pressed against the man’s neck, small enough to be concealed, small enough that no one else could see it. Remembers the way Ten had described exactly what he’d do if he ever saw the man around Kun again. 

Kun had been scared, shaken out of his mind, but the way - god, the _way_ \- Ten had looked at him as they left the party, eyes dark and jaw clenched, but not without a hint of desperation digging into the curve of his cheeks, as if he thought this would be the last time he’d ever see Kun, all of that, well-

Kun had dragged him into an alleyway between two frat houses, both of them pounding from the bass, the windows above them rattling as Kun had slammed Ten against the side of the left house, much like Ten would six years later, and had kissed him with all the fervour and force of a bonfire that had just been lit, springing up into the wood and bursting forth with a fury. 

Ten had kissed him back just as furiously, thin fingers digging into the spaces between Kun’s ribs, nails scratching down his arms, his back, and Kun had been so full of feelings, so full, so _full _he was fit to burst and he’d slid down to his knees, jeans soaking through on the dewy grass, and had made Ten fall apart with his mouth alone, just as Ten had made him fall apart twenty minutes ago, just by pinning a man up against the wall and threatening him with death. 

And now, when Kun thinks about that day, that night, he wishes he could summon up any other feeling other than a faint amount of pride, nestling deep into his ribcage, somewhere around the same spot Ten had tattooed his fingerprints onto his skin in the shape of blue and black bruises. 

* * *

Ten is waiting for him when Kun gets out of work.

Kun brushes out of the revolving door, intent on making his way home quickly to see what damage Ten had inflicted on his kitchen, stopping short when he catches sight of Ten leaning against the lamp post across the street, squinting down at his phone, his tongue piercing glinting oddly in the sunlight. 

“Ten?” Kun calls. Ten perks up, head shooting up to find Kun in an instant, and the smile that unfurls over his face is breathtaking. He pushes off the lamppost and jogs across the street with no consideration for the cars that whizz past. “What are you doing here?” Kun asks in confusion. “How do you know where I work?” 

Ten brushes this away. “I saw your mail on the table, silly.” He grins up at him. “Thought I’d come walk with you.”

“Kun!” A voice calls, and Kun looks up to see his coworker jogging towards him. 

“Hey, Junho,” Kun says, raking his hand through his hair uneasily. He takes a step back, and going by the flash in Ten’s eyes, he doesn’t miss it.

Junho jogs up to him, grin far too wide. “A couple of us are going out for after work drinks, you in?” 

“On a Monday night?” Kun laughs, hoping it sounds real. He doesn’t know why exactly Junho radiates such odd vibes, but Kun’s instincts always flare up around him, warning to stay back, to stay away. 

“You only live once and all that,” Junho says, stepping closer. Before Kun can take another incriminating step back, Ten slides neatly in between them, nestling into Kun’s body, smiling up at Junho. 

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of fun,” Ten says brightly, and only Kun can see the way his hand is clenched behind his back, knuckles white. “But I’m only here for a week and I’d like to spend time with my _boyfriend_. You understand, right?” 

Junho’s eyes flicker, the smile fading to something more plastic. A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Of course,” he says, looking over Ten’s head to Kun. “Another time, then.”

Kun nods in agreement, wrapping his hand around Ten’s closed fist and dragging him away. “Come on, we’ll miss the train,” he murmurs, pushing Ten’s fingers open and sliding his fingers in between them. When he glances over his shoulder, a chill goes down his spine to find Junho still staring after them, his face blank.

* * *

The man Kun encountered at the frat party hadn’t turned up for classes on the first day. Hadn’t shown up to the frat’s meetings. Had all but disappeared. 

Then, six weeks later, the week before Thanksgiving break, he had stumbled onto campus, bruises and cuts decorating every inch of his skin, a wild look in his scared eyes. He could not remember a single thing.

And the next week, he dropped out of school, prompting a flurry of rumours about everything from the mafia to human trafficking. 

Kun doesn’t think too much about him. He’s scared of what he might uncover if he digs too deeply into it. 

* * *

Time with Ten passes all too quickly. 

It’s like watching a sped up film, the colours brushing around him in a dizzying rainbow, the lights flickering on and off way too fast. Life seems to be worth _living_ again. 

They both live in different apartments on opposite sides of the city, but Kun cannot begrudge Ten when he passes out in his bed, limbs sprawled across Kun’s side, his face - far more fuller now - relaxed and calm. 

Ten is Kun’s most potent drug. And under him again, Kun forgets what he had been so afraid of. Forgets his wariness, his fear, his caution. He throws it all to the wind when it comes to Ten and falls into his arms like nothing had ever happened, like the past five years had never come to pass. 

“Kunnie,” Ten whispers one night. They’re in bed, wrapped around each other, the sweat cooling off their flushed skin, their breaths intermingling in the hot air as they calm down, coming down from the high of being intertwined in the best way possible. “I’m sorry.”

Kun squints down at him. Ten’s face is buried into Kun’s neck, his fingers playing with the silver chain around Kun’s neck. “What for?” 

“For the past.”

Kun drops his head back down on the pillow. Strange, isn’t it? How memory tends to work? Three months ago, Kun would have admonished himself for letting himself be pulled into Ten’s thrall again. People could change, though. Ten had changed, he was sure of it. 

“The past doesn’t matter here,” Kun murmurs, running his fingers through Ten’s hair. He’s glad to see it back to his natural black, soft and fluffy around his head. 

Ten props himself up and gazes at Kun, head tilted, eyes dark and knowing. A smile plays about his lips, far too knowing. “That’s where you’re wrong, darling. The past _always _matters. The past is where you and I fell in love, after all.” His fingers come up to brush across Kun’s bottom lip, still tingling from when Ten had sunk his teeth into it, painfully biting. “Those who ignore the past are doomed to repeat it, you know.” 

“Am I doomed, then?” Kun asks. There’s an underlying question in his words and Ten hears it. “By letting myself love you again? Am I doomed?”

Ten smirks, leaning to press a kiss against Kun’s mouth. “I don’t know about doomed, darling,” he whispers against his lips. “But I’m very pleased to hear that you do love me again. Maybe that’ll save us from eternal damnation.” 

Kun lets his eyes slide shut as Ten kisses him again, languid and slow, licking into Kun’s mouth, his fingers trailing up Kun’s sides, making him shiver. 

Damned or not, Kun’s soul sighs with relief when the drugs slide under his skin once again. 

* * *

The office Christmas party is always an exercise in dealing with idiocy. Kun’s coworkers get far too drunk and forget themselves far too easily, thus he’s always the only one left relatively sober who has to witness all the painful happenings. 

“This is horrible,” Ten murmurs behind his hand, as Kun hands him a glass filled with violently red punch. “I can’t believe you do this every year.” 

“There’s also a Halloween and Fourth of July party,” Kun informs, laughing softly when Ten’s nose wrinkles up with disgust. 

“It stinks of capitalism-induced sadness in here,” he informs Kun. 

Kun snorts. “The balcony is over there, if you need some air.”

Ten shoots him a grateful look and pecks him on the cheek, not lingering long enough for it to be considered scandalous. “I’ll be right back, darling.” 

Kun waves him off with a hum, and leans back against the wall, watching his coworkers mingling. There’s a cough, and he turns to find Junho lingering beside him, his eyes fixed intently on Kun. “Junho,” Kun says, surprised, taking a tiny step back in the intent of shifting himself. Given by the darkening of Junho’s glazed eyes, he notices it. “How are you enjoying the party?” 

“S’ fine,” Junho slurs, waving his hand around too much and spilling some punch on his hand. He lets out a loud tsk and wipes his hand off on his trousers. “That’s an interesting boy you’ve got there, Kun.” He jerks his head at the balcony where Ten is leaning against the railing, his head tilted up to the sky, breathing deeply. 

“Yes, well,” Kun says and then trails off, trying to step away. 

“The _thing_ is,” Junhho says, stepping closer, placing a hand on the wall behind Kun’s head. “You’d never mentioned a boyfriend before. Sort of a surprise, isn’t it?” 

“Not really,” Kun says stiffly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to-”

“I think,” Junho interrupts, loudly. “That you’re lying to me. That little twink really isn’t your boyfriend is he? You just don’t wanna fuck _me_, so-”

“Junho Kim,” Kun snaps. “That is wildly inappropriate. Step away from me right _now_.”

Junho freezes, staring at him, before his lips pull into an ugly grin. “I like feisty ones,” he drawls, leaning closer. Then suddenly, Ten is there, grabbing Kun’s hand and Kun thinks that this is it, that Ten is really going to kill someone else, that maybe he really _hasn’t_ changed.

But all Ten does is tug him out from the wall and lead him away. “I think it’s snowing,” he says, forcefully bright, and intertwines their fingers together as they wind around the crowd of people. “Come see, darling.”

They exit out into the cool air and Kun takes a large breath, shaking. “Thank you,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on Ten’s hand. “I don’t know what I would have done.” He looks down at Ten, eyes wide. “I wasn’t sure what you were going to do, either.”

Ten smiles lazily, turning back to the sky. “I told you darling, I’d do anything for you. I don’t break my promises.”

Kun hums, feeling the adrenaline and fear fade from him, bit by bit. “You also promised me that you’d take care of me, do you remember that?” It had been said by a feverish Ten, sick from the flu, clutching Kun’s hand under the comforter as Kun had slowly fed him porridge. 

_“I’ll protect you too, Kunnie.” Ten had mumbled, eyes glassy, already drifting back to sleep, his hand slackening around Kun’s. “I promise I’ll take care of you too.”_

“Of course I do,” Ten whispers. “I’m still keeping that one.”

Kun thinks of the way Ten’s eyes had flashed as he’d led Kun away from the party, the way his hands shook in Kun’s grip, the way every line and curve of his body screamed danger. “I know.”

* * *

Ten doesn’t show up for dinner three nights later. 

He’d texted Kun earlier, a quick _don’t wait up, dance emergency_. Kun’s not sure what kind of dance emergency could constitute being out past midnight, but he doesn’t question it. He’s not sure he wants to know either. 

He’s just sliding into bed when the front door clicks open and he hears Ten calling out for him. 

“In the bedroom,” Kun says, sitting up against the headboard as Ten peeks his head around the door. 

“Hello, darling,” Ten sings, dropping down on the bed next to him, leaning in for a kiss. Kun lets him, but wrinkles his nose at the smell wafting off Ten. He smells overwhelmingly of bleach, sharp and acidic, wafting into his nose. 

“You _stink_ of bleach,” Kun coughs out when Ten pulls away. “What happened?” 

Ten sighs dramatically, flopping down on the bed, his head nestling on Kun’s thighs. “It was cleaning day, some students got into the varnish and we had to scrub the floors the whole night. I’m _exhausted_.”

“Poor baby,” Kun hums, stroking his hair. “Go shower. Do you want to eat?” 

“No.” Ten pushes off the bed. “I’m not very hungry.”

As he bounds to the bathroom, pulling off his jacket as he goes, Kun catches sight of a streak of blood behind Ten’s ear, dripping down his neck, partially dried. His mouth goes dry and his heart freezes, limbs going cold. Then Ten turns to blow him a dramatic kiss, and Kun forgets everything all over again. 

“Wash behind your ears,” Kun calls as Ten walks into the bedroom. 

“Yes mom,” Ten rolls his eyes, sticking out his tongue at him before shutting the door.

The sound of the shower fills the room, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the pounding of Kun’s heart, the rushing in his ears. 

Kun’s not a stupid person. 

But even intelligent people can fall prey to the sweetest of drugs. 

After his shower, Ten slides into the covers, pressing his lips to the curve of Kun’s neck. “Darling,” he whispers, and that one word is full of _meaning_. “You’re keeping my promises for me.”

Kun turns to face him, slowly twisting around in the covers until Ten’s black gaze meets his own. Kun swallows, reaching a shaky hand up to curl over Ten’s cheek. “Go to sleep, Ten,” he murmurs. “It’s late.”

Ten smiles at him and leans over to press a kiss to the curve of Kun’s lips. “I love you, darling.”

Kun shuts his eyes. He takes a shaky breath. The needle is poised over his veins, the reminder of sweet euphoria making his heart race, making his blood pound harder and harder.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought! it has been a very uncreative few weeks and i'd really appreciate some comments~
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/_donghyuck_)  
[cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyxcheis)


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